


Do not stand on my grave and weep, I am not there I do not sleep

by TheConsultingTImelady



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Angst, M/M, john watson dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-10
Updated: 2014-03-10
Packaged: 2018-01-15 06:17:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1294549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheConsultingTImelady/pseuds/TheConsultingTImelady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John watson is diagosed with cancer. And he and sherlock try to make the most of the time they have left</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do not stand on my grave and weep, I am not there I do not sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This is a work under construction :)  
> Please feel free to comment, as I am still new to writing fanfics all advice is highly appriciated

It all started with a nasty cough which would not go away, I did not think much of it at first, although I did notice Sherlock looking intently at me every now and then. But he was always bothered about me, more so then for himself. That was until I started to cough up blood. Little alarm bells went off in my head and soon me and Sherlock found ourselves in the hospital when the detective had found me in our flat barely able to breathe casping for air. Pictures of my lungs were taken and Sherlock and I were made to wait in the waiting room as Dr. Cramer investigated the x-rays. As soon as the door of the little chamber opened again my heart sunk through the floor. I knew that face all to well, as I had often giving that exact same look to my patients when I had very bad news to bring. For a moment Sherlock’s slender fingers brushed against mine as if searching for support and as I glanced sideways I found myself surprised. Was that fear I saw flashing in those blue hues of his? To be honest I don’t remember much of what happened next, it’s all a blur of my best friend and me walking in and seeing the actual picture. A death sentence it seemed to scream at the consulting detective and myself. The large white spots told me all that I need to know, I am doctor myself goddammit, so I hardly paid heed to Cramer’s tedious explanation. ‘’ _Large-Cell Lung Carcinoma.. Stage VI_ … _Widely spread..already through the entire body… chemo might buy time… I am sorry’’_ I can hardly suppress the snort that threatens to escape. He tries to put it nicely I have to admit. But the god honest truth is that I… am dying and there is so little time left. Sherlock does not say a thing but I know him well enough now to read him like a book. He may seem utterly calm on the outside but I do know that inside he wants to scream, yell at the entire world. Oh he does not have to speak at all, the silence is thicker and speaks louder than words could ever do. On the ride home I try to cheer him up but it doesn’t work.. He keeps it all in until we are back at the flat. There in his anger he nearly breaks his hand while punching the wall.

===================

‘’How can you be so calm.. You know fully well what is going to happen, Doctor Cramer told you.. You are going to grow weaker and weaker until you die while chocking ’’ he then speaks as his deep baritone trembles with pain. ‘’I know ‘’ I reply as I try to keep my voice steady ‘’ And I try so say more but Sherlock raises his hands motioning me to keep silent and without saying another word he walks out of the apartment leaving me behind. I do not mind as I know he needs some time to himself and it helps me to order my thoughts as well. I grab a piece of paper and note all the things that need to be done before… I cannot bear to think of it yet. But still hastily I manage to make a small list. When my best friend comes back many hours later the mask is back in place and he kneels between my legs those vibrant hues gazing up at me. ‘’John promise me one thing’’ and I tilt my head to the side curious ‘’Sure Sherlock whatever you want’’ and he rests his head on my knee closing his eyes as a single tear escapes ‘’let’s make the most of the time we have left alright’’ And that is exactly what we do. I quit my job as a doctor and Sherlock and I take as much cases as we can. He monitors me closely and still every day I find him in Molly’s lab franticly searching for a cure for me. When I try to talk to him about it his reply is almost frantic ‘’I need to find a cure for you... I cannot lose you John..I am smart'' the detecive spoke '' I know more than most doctors that work in this hospital and I know I can solve this’’ I want to tell him its impossible for this killer there is none But I decide against it and let him have this little bit of distraction. If it makes him feel a bit better so be it.

==================

Sherlock is adamant that we not tell Mrs. Hudson. For once, I agree. If we do, we’ll never keep her out from underfoot. We’ll wait until it can’t be put off any longer. The first one that I tell is Lestrade. I decide that it is the best to do so myself. Sherlock and me have known him long enough now that we even have come to see him as a friend. His face is utter shock and his gaze is sympatatic as I know he sees my dramatic weight loss. But he quickly pulls himself together and promises to help me as much as he can. My sister harry reacts the total opposite When she comes to the flat and I tell her the news she completely breaks down and cries on my shoulder holding me tightly. As always my friend is nearby and for a moment my fingers brush his.. I need him to be my strength as I cannot bear to see my sister cry. And as always the detective is. With his normal –as some might say- attitude he gently pulls Harry away from me and puts her at ease until soon she crying has stopped and she is whipping her eyes with a tissue. After that in the next weeks the decision is quickly made. I will not wait until my pain becomes too much. No I will go with some dignity and on my own conditions. Me and Sherlock both sign a durable power of attorney agreement. Should I collapse or have a dramatic downturn, He will be empowered to make medical decisions for me.” I would have thought that he has some feeling about this, but he doesn’t. He simply agrees and with a graceful motion marks the paper with his signature. Nothing needs to be said, we can talk without words. He gets everything from me, only a few sentimental things go to Harry and my parents. But most will stay with my raven haired companion as this is my live now and Sherlock is the greatest and to be honest best part of it. He simply stares at me as I explain it to him. Then reaching forward he hesitates only for a moment a slender index fingers brushes against my cheek and I savor the feel of it. It’s not natural for Sherlock to be this sentimental but I do not question it. I can see his intense clever gaze observing me as if memorizing and I know that is probably exactly what he is doing. ‘’Will you remember me when I am gone?’’ I ask as I place my hand on his gently rubbing it. A bittersweet smile touches his lips as he bends and places a kiss on my forehead ‘’Every single day of my live John.. and after that’’

==============

A few days later while on a case Sherlock and I investigate a dusty crime scene. I feel myself getting dizzy and short of breath after a few moments of running and not long after that I bend down and bend over in pain. Sherlock it at my side immediately ‘’John are you alright?’’ his voice slices though my pain and sooths me. Looking up I try to answer him but I cant.. I can barely breath. And everything seems to hurt, so very bad. And at that moment I know that the end is coming faster than I would like to admit. ’’I hate to see you go through this’’ the detective murmurs as embraces me trying to get me up. I just nod … I know. When we get home I realize all to well how my condition is deteriorating, even the smallest effort seems to drain my energy. The hospital is kind enough to give me morphine but I know all to well soon enough even these will not be enough anymore. When I manage to take a shower and walk into the living room. I find him sitting on the sofa legs curled up underneath him. There is some tacky talk show on which Sherlock loves to watch for some strange reazon. I sit next to him and before I know it I am curled up against him, listening to the steady beating of his heart it soothes me while I listen to it. Like a familiar lullaby and I drift to sleep as I feel his hand absentmindedly caressing my arm.


End file.
